I had heard something drop from the branches at the moment my horse
shied. As the woman was wearing a cloak drawn over her head, I could
not see her face but from the grotesque outlines of her limbs and body,
I concluded it must be unpleasantly bizarre.
“We kept together in this extraordinary fashion until we came in sight
of Burle, when she quickened her steps, and tearing off the hood thrust
her face upwards into mine.
“It was awful--utterly and inconceivably AWFUL--so awful that I felt the
very marrow in my bones freeze with horror while my heart stood still.
“She had no hair; her head was round and shiny, whilst her face, yellow
and swollen, was covered all over with circular black spots causing it
to bear a striking resemblance to one of those old-fashioned carriage
dogs!!! Her eyes were black and sinister; she had no nose, whilst her
mouth was--horrid--the most horrid thing about her.
“With a diabolical grin she grabbed at my jacket and would, I believe,
have torn me from my seat had we not at this moment, in the very nick
of time, arrived within sight of the gates of Burle Farm.
“My aunt, with several other people, was awaiting me, and as with a
desperate spurt I galloped up to them, the infernal hag let go her hold
of my jacket, slackened her pace and vanished.”
CARNE HOUSE, NEAR NORTHAMPTON
THE MAN IN THE FLOWERY DRESSING-GOWN AND THE BLACK CAT
Technical form of apparitions: Phantoms of the dead and possibly
animal: Elemental.
Cause of haunting: Murder
Source of authenticity: First-hand evidence
Should any one wonder why I continually select Northamptonshire and
Gloucestershire as the scenes of my ghost stories, let me hasten to
explain that my reason is obvious enough--with both these counties I
have had a lifelong intimacy and naturally have had more facilities and
opportunities for collecting suitable material from them than from any
other.
I have not the slightest doubt other counties can show equally long
lists of haunted houses, only I have not found them so easy of access,
moreover the genial nature of the inhabitants of Northamptonshire
(especially) has attracted as well as aided me in my research, and
although the burly Midland yeoman is inclined to scoff at things
superphysical, his satire is not so objectionable as is that of the
supercilious middle-class Londoner.
Again, Northamptonshire is very rich in well preserved old country
mansions--I know of no other county where there are so many--and as
most of these houses have at one time or another witnessed some grim
tragedy, it is not surprising that they are now the scenes of occult
manifestations.
Doubtless one would find similar phenomena in smaller habitations were
the latter of the same early date, for crime was then just as prevalent
among the poor as among the rich, but the inferior material with which
cottages have been built causes their comparatively speaking early
dissolution, and we rarely find a cottage now standing which was built
more than a century ago.
From this it must not be deduced that hauntings are confined to old
buildings nor that past crime alone begat ghosts; nothing of the sort,
modern villas are frequently subjected to psychic phenomena whilst
the phantoms of present-day suicides and murderers are decidedly as
numerous as of yore.
But whereas in olden times, crime was fairly common in villages, it
is now chiefly confined to towns, and the houses that have witnessed
murders, &c., are not infrequently entirely demolished or made to
undergo some very radical alterations--hence the ghosts disappear with
their surroundings.
This more so, perhaps, in the provinces than in London, as there are
too many crimes in the latter for any particular one to be remembered
for any length of time, not long enough in fact to permanently damn the
letting of a house.
The word ghost is very elastic, it may be used in reference to many
different types of spirits, and is, in fact, only the designation for
that genus of which the departed soul of man is but a species.
Now Northamptonshire is very rich in species; species of all
kinds; spirits of men, of beasts, of vegetables! and species of
elementals--elemental being in itself, a genus which includes many
various types, too numerous indeed, for any attempt at classification
in this work.
It is no uncommon thing to meet with some locality (usually barren) or
village (generally on the site of barrows or Druidical remains as, for
example, Guilsborough) where the nature of the hauntings is dual; a
complexity that is, fortunately, of rarer occurrence in houses.
Concerning the latter, Lee mentions one instance, _i.e._, “The Gybe
Farm,” in his book, “More Glimpses of the Unseen World” whilst I will
take this opportunity to quote another case of dual haunting, _i.e._,
Carne House, which is situated at the utmost extremity of a village to
the south-east of Northampton.
My informant, Mrs. Norton, frequently resided in the house in her
childhood and youth, and it was from her lips that I heard the
following story which I recollect only too well.
* * * * *
My first impression of Carne House was one of extreme aversion; I can
see it now as I saw it then--vast, sleek, and white, like some monstrous
toadstool, or slimy fungus.
Bathed in the moonlight--for we did not arrive till late--it confronted
us with audacious nudity; not a plant or shrub being trained to hide
its naked sides. There was something unspeakably loathsome in the
boldness of its carriage--something that made me glance with fear at its
wide and gaping windows and glance again as I crossed the threshold
into the dark and lofty hall.
The passages of the house, both in number and sinuosity, resembled a
maze; they recalled to my youthful mind the story of Dædalus, and I
half expected to see the figure of the Minotaur suddenly arise from
some gloomy corner and pursue me through the labyrinth.
Nor were my fears entirely groundless, for I had hardly been in the
place a month before I had a very unpleasant experience.
Chancing one morning to go on an errand for my mother to a room that
had in all probability once served as a laundry, but which was now
restricted to lumber, I was startled at hearing something move either
in or on the copper. Thinking it must be some stray animal, or, may be,
a rat, I threaded my way through a sea of packing cases, and standing
on tip-toe, peeped very cautiously into the copper.
To my intense surprise I found myself looking into a very deep and
sepulchral well, at the bottom of which was a man. I could see him
distinctly, owing to a queer kind of light that seemed to emanate from
every part of his body. He was draped in a phantastic costume that
might have been a kimono or one of those flowery dressing-gowns worn
by our great-great-grandfathers. He was bending over a box which he
was doing his best to conceal under a pile of _débris_, and it was
undoubtedly this noise that had attracted me.
Too intent on his work, he was apparently unaware of my close
proximity, until, satisfied that the box was well hidden, he
straightened his back and looked up.
His face frightened me; not that it was anything out of the normal
either in feature or complexion, but it was the expression--the look of
evil joy that suffused every lineament before he saw me, changing to
one of the most diabolical fury as our eyes met. I was at first too
transfixed with terror to do more than stare, and it was only when,
crouching down, he took a sudden and deliberate spring at the wall
and began to climb it like a spider, that I regained possession of my
limbs, and turning round, fled for my life.
Oh! how long that room seemed and what an interminable succession of
furniture now appeared to barricade the way.
Every yard was a mile, every instant I expected he would clutch me.
I reached the door only just in time--happily for me it was open--I
darted out, and as I did so the outlines of a hand--large and
ill-shapen--shot fruitlessly past me.
The next moment I was in the kitchen--the servants were there--I was
saved--saved from a fate that would assuredly have sent me mad.
When I related what had happened, to my mother, she laughingly informed
me I must have been dreaming, that there was NO WELL there, nor was
there any man in the house save my father and the servants; yet I
fancied I could detect beneath those smiling assurances a faint and
scarcely perceptible horror--and she never let me visit that room
again--alone!
But was I dreaming--was there no well, and had that man been but the
fancy of a childish and distorted brain?
Sometimes I answered “Yes,” and sometimes “No.”
After this little incident, a manifest, though of necessity, subtle
change took place in our household; the servants became infected
with a general spirit of uneasiness, which although only shown in my
presence by their looks, convinced and alarmed me far more than any
fears, even the most terrible, would have done had they been outspoken.
I was positive they lived in daily anticipation of something very
dreadful--something that lay concealed in those dark and tortuous
corridors or in that grim and ghostly room.
My dreams at night were horrible, nor did I again feel that in this
respect I was singular as I overheard some one remark that no one ever
passed the night without awakening with a sudden and inexplicable start.
I say inexplicable--would that it had always remained so!
It was August when my next definite adventure occurred. I use the word
definite as I had had several other experiences, but of too brief and
uncertain a nature to enable me to draw any precise conclusions.
Once, as I had been walking along one of the passages, I had heard the
noise of something clanking, and had been put to instant flight by the
sound of heavy footsteps echoing suddenly in my rear, and again--but
this isn’t really worth recording; let me proceed with that night in
August.
Well, I slept in a room at the end of a corridor, my nearest neighbour,
Miss Dovecot our governess, occupying a chamber some dozen yards
away. I do not think I need describe any article of furniture the
room contained; every piece was strictly modern, and had been brought
with us from a newly furnished house in Sevenoaks. The fireplace and
cupboard are, however, deserving of comment; the former was one of
those old-fashioned ingles Burns delights in describing, and which are
now so seldom to be seen; an inn at Dundry, near Bristol, containing,
I believe, the finest specimen in the kingdom; whilst the latter,
which I always kept securely locked at night, was of such far-reaching
dimensions that it might well be termed in modern phraseology a linen
room.
On the night in question, I had gone to bed at my usual time--eight--and
I had speedily fallen to sleep, as I was in the habit of doing; but my
slumber was by no means normal.
I was tortured with a series of disturbing dreams, from which I awoke
with a start to hear some clock outside sonorously strike twelve.
As an additional proof of my wakefulness, I might add (pardon my
explicitness) I was sensibly affected by a constant irritation of the
skin, due, I believe, to a disordered state of the liver, which in
itself was a sufficient preventive to further sleep.
It must have been half-past twelve when I heard, to my intense horror,
the cupboard door--which I distinctly recollect locking--slowly, very
slowly, open.
My first impulse was to make a precipitate rush for the door, but,
alas! I soon became aware that I was powerless to act; a kind of
catalepsy, coming on suddenly, held my body as in a vice, whilst my
senses, on the other hand, had grown abnormally acute.
In this odious condition I was now compelled to listen to the
Thing--whatever it might be--slowly crossing the floor in the direction
of my bed.
The climax at length came, and my cup of horrors overflowed, when,
with an abruptness that was quite unexpected (in spite of the direst
apprehension), the Thing leaped on the bed, and I discovered it to be
an enormous CAT.
I can unhesitatingly add the epithet--Black--for the room, which a
moment before was shrouded in darkness, had now become a blaze of
light, enabling me to perceive the colour as well as the outline with
the most unpleasant perspicuity.
It was not only in intensity of colour (the blackest ebony could not
have been blacker) that the cat was abnormal, but in every other
respect; its dimensions were not far removed from those of a large
bull-dog, and its expression--the eyes and mouth of the beast were more
than bestial--was truly Satanic. Stalking over my legs, its tail almost
perpendicular and swaying slightly like the nodding plumes of a hearse,
it squatted down between the bedposts opposite, transfixing me with a
stare full of malevolent meaning.
I was so fully occupied in watching it and trying to solve the enigma I
saw so plainly written in its every gesture, that I did not realise I
had other visitors, till a sudden uncertain twitching in the light made
me look round. I then perceived with a start a fire was burning in the
grate.
A fire, and in August--how incongruous! I shivered.
But it was no delusion; the flames soared aloft, adopting a hundred
fantastic yet natural shapes; the coals burned hollow, and in their
crimson and innermost recesses I read the future.
But not for long. My cogitations were unceremoniously interrupted
by the appearance of the man-in-the-well, whom I was startled to
perceive seated in the chimney-corner in the most nonchalant attitude
possible--nursing a baby!
Anomalous and mirth-provoking as is such a sight in the usual way, the
existing circumstances were grim enough to excite my horror and raise
anew my worst forebodings.
Supposing he saw me now? There was no escape! I was entirely at his
mercy. What would he do?
I glanced from him to the cat, and from the cat back again to him. Of
my two enemies, which was most to be feared? The slightest movement on
my part would inevitably arouse them both, and bring about my immediate
destruction. The situation did not even warrant my breathing.
The minutes sped by with the most tantalising slowness. The clock
struck one, and neither of my visitors had budged an inch--the man in
the flowery dressing-gown still nursing the baby, and the black cat
still staring at me. Mine was indeed a most unenviable position, and I
was despairing of its ever being otherwise, when a sudden transmutation
in the man sent a flow of icy blood to my heart.
He no longer regarded his burden indifferently--he scowled at it.
The scowl deepened, the utmost fury pervaded his features, converting
them into those of a demon. He got up, gnashed his teeth, stamped on
the ground, and lifting up the child, dropped it head first into the
fire. I saw it fall. I heard it burn!
The hideous cruelty of the man, the abruptness of his action, proved my
undoing. Oblivious of personal danger, I shrieked.
The effect was electrical. Dropping the poker, with which he had been
holding down the baby, the inhuman monster swung round and saw me.
The expression in his face at once became hellish, absolutely hellish.
My only chance of salvation now lay in making the greatest noise
possible, and I had commenced to shout for help lustily, when at a
signal from the man, the enormous black cat crouched and sprang.
What followed I cannot exactly remember, I have dim recollections of
feeling a heavy thud and of some one or some THING trying to tear away
the clothes from my head, after which there came a very complete blank,
and when I recovered consciousness, the anxious countenances of my
parents and governess were bending over me.
The next night I slept with my sister.
My health had been so impaired by these encounters, that my parents
decided to move elsewhere; the furniture was once again packed, and
within a month of the above incident we had taken up our abode in
Clifton, Bristol.
The history of the hauntings was subsequently revealed to me by the
owner of the house. It had once been inhabited by a man of the name of
Darby, who seems to have been a sort of wholesale butcher.
His elder brother dying, the family estate passed to the latter’s
eldest son, a child of two, and Darby determining to succeed to the
property, invited the widow to stay with him. She did so--she was a
weakly creature--and he got rid of her by putting her to sleep in a damp
bed. The children were next disposed of, the younger by being burnt
(as I had witnessed) and the elder, aged two, by being smothered to
death by a black cat. Darby is said to have deliberately made the cat
sit upon the infant’s mouth as it lay asleep. But these rapid deaths,
as might have been expected, aroused suspicions. The nurse, who had
been an unwilling party to the burning of the baby, turned King’s
Evidence, and a warrant for his arrest was issued. As is often the
case, however, the officers of the law were a bit too late. When they
arrived at the house, the quarry had flown, nor could his whereabouts
be discovered for many years; not, indeed, till fifty years after the
crimes, when his skeleton was found at the bottom of a disused well he
had himself sunk in one of the back kitchens. Under the skeleton lay
an iron box containing many valuables, rings, &c., which he had been
doubtless striving to hide when death in some unaccountable form or
another overtook him. What became of the cat, history does not say.
The place had always borne a reputation for being haunted--it was on
that account my parents had got it at so low a rental--and the ghosts
seen there (undoubtedly those of Darby and his cat) corresponded in
every detail with the phenomena that had so terrified me.
I am aware that many deny the existence of souls in animals--let them do
so--but do not let them be too dogmatical, for where Life ends all is
mystery.
Still there is an alternative theory to account for the appearance
of animal phantoms, which is, I think, quite within the realms of
possibility: the black cat I saw, if not the spirit of the one made
such hideous use of by the old man, was undoubtedly an elemental--a
spirit representative of a popular crime, a vice--Darby’s evil
genius--that ever hovered at his heels in his lifetime and is more loth
than ever to leave him now that his physical body is dead and his soul
earthbound.
HARLEY HOUSE, PORTISHEAD
THE BLACK ANTENNÆ
Technical form of apparitions: Poltergeists (or Elementals)
Source of authenticity: First-hand evidence
Cause of hauntings: Unknown
The following account of a haunted house is taken from the diary of a
gentleman--since deceased. The narrator was the owner of the house, and,
being a professional man, asked me to give fictitious names, lest the
publication of the story should be detrimental both to his practice and
to the letting of the place:
“Before I commence my story,” he writes, “I think it expedient to state
that both my parents are dead, my father having died many years ago and
my mother quite recently. The latter had lived to the very ripe age of
ninety, had possessed an unusually strong will, was a most devout Roman
Catholic, and took the deepest interest in everything that concerned
our welfare. She had two peculiarities: (1) A strange aversion to
children; (2) a positive loathing and dread of blackbeetles. The house
stands alone, some thirty yards or so from the road, and is well
concealed from view by a high brick wall and numerous trees.
“There are four bedrooms upstairs, two on either side of the
landing--which for clearness I will number--viz., No. 1 occupied by
my wife and I; No. 2 my sister Mary’s room; No. 3 my sister Joan’s
room; No. 4 the spare bedroom in which my mother died. The top storey
consists of two attics inhabited by the servants.
“January 1, 1906, we first became aware of the disturbances--violent
knockings being heard about midnight on the walls and floor of room No.
4. On hurriedly entering it, we could discover nothing. But on leaving
the room the noises were repeated and kept up till two or three in the
morning.
“January 5. A recurrence of the disturbance--only much louder.
“January 6. Have in a carpenter who makes a thorough examination of the
wainscoting and reports ‘no traces of rats, mice nor any other animals.’
“January 10. Tremendous knockings again in room No. 4, the door of
which is swinging to and fro violently. A loud clatter on landing as
though half a dozen children were engaged in the roughest horse-play.
The uproar terminates in a terrific crash on the panel of No. 3 door.
Joan rushes out of her bedroom thinking the house is on fire and sees
a strange, green light some six by two feet long moving across the
landing. It disappears in room No. 4.
“January 15. We are all awakened by a loud crash and on reaching the
landing find a big, black oak chest from the coach-house, lying there
on its back. Every one much alarmed.
“February 1. My sister Mary awakened at midnight by feeling something
tickle her cheeks. She puts out her hand to brush it away and
encounters something cold and scaly. Her shrieks of terror bring us all
into her bedroom--there is nothing there.
“February 3. My wife and I are aroused by feeling our bed gently lifted
up and down, and on my getting out for a light, I tread on something
indescribably disgusting. It feels like a monstrous insect!!
“February 4. The knocking very bad all night--particularly in room
No. 4.
“February 5, 6, 7, ditto.
“February 10. The clothes mysteriously taken off Joan’s bed and
transported to room No. 2.
“February 15. Both servants undergo our experience of February 3.
“February 16. The knockings still continued and distant sounds heard
as of some one coming upstairs and turning the handles of all the room
doors.
“February 17. Scufflings on the landings, and in the passage as though
caused by a troop of very noisy children.
“February 19. Knockings in room No. 2. The washstand and a heavy
mahogany wardrobe moved some feet out of their places. Mary, who was
awake at the time, saw the shunting of the furniture, but could detect
no sign of any agent.
“March 1. About 8.30 A.M. after Martha had laid the breakfast things
she went downstairs to finish a cup of tea. On her return to the
breakfast room she found it in the wildest state of disorder; chairs
over-turned, ashpan and front of grate removed to furthest extremity of
room, all the pictures taken down from the walls and laid face upwards
on the floor, and the cups, saucers, plates, knives and forks piled
in one heap in centre of table; all this had been done without either
breakage or noise.
“Terrified out of her wits Martha rushed upstairs to our door, and
nothing would induce her to enter the breakfast room again alone.
“March 3. On returning home about 10 P.M. from a neighbouring town,
we found the servants sitting huddled together, half dead with fright
in the kitchen. They had heard knockings and the most appalling thuds
ever since we had gone out; and on entering our room (No. 1) we found
it in an absolute turmoil: the bed-clothes in a promiscuous pile on the
floor, the duchess table turned round with its face to the wall, the
pictures ditto--but--nothing broken.
“March 15. Awakened in middle of night by three loud crashes in room
No. 3, after which we distinctly heard our door open and some one crawl
stealthily under our bed.
“We at once lit a candle--no one was there.
“March 18. Knockings in both the attics. The servants badly scared.
“March 21. As Joan was running downstairs about mid-day, she received
a violent bang on her back as if some one had hit her with the palm of
their hand. She came to my study in a very exhausted condition, and it
took her some minutes to recover.
“March 24. Found my mother’s shoes, which we were certain had been
locked up in a bureau, placed where she had always placed them in her
lifetime--_i.e._, on the hearth-rug before the dining-room fire.
“March 31. My mother’s favourite arm-chair found upside down in front
of the fire-place in room No. 4.
“April 2, 11 P.M. As Mary was stooping to look under the bed for fear
of burglars, she was suddenly pushed down and the mattresses and
bedclothes were thrown on the top of her. Her frantic struggles and
muffled screams being, fortunately, overheard by my wife (I was in
London at the time), she was immediately extricated. No injury, only
bad shock.